


baby formula, love, and other confusing things

by halfasgoodatanything



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Artist Steve Rogers, Fluff and Angst, Identity Porn, M/M, Misunderstandings, Oblivious Steve Rogers, POV Steve Rogers, Pining Steve Rogers, Romantic Fluff, Steve Rogers Feels, Steve is a volunteer at said orphanage, Superfamily, Tony Feels, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark is Good With Kids, Tony donates money to an orphanage underneath a false name, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, steve doesnt know tony is tony Stark, the angst is BIG sad
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-30
Updated: 2019-04-30
Packaged: 2020-01-20 19:01:26
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,282
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18531196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/halfasgoodatanything/pseuds/halfasgoodatanything
Summary: steve meets a cute guy who is great with kids when he volunteers at the orphanage near where he grew up, and it's desperate, head over heels, heart pounding love at first sight. also, the orphanage has just been given hundereds of thousands in funds. but tony isn't a billionaire, probably doesn't even know the donor. right?right?





	baby formula, love, and other confusing things

**Author's Note:**

  * For [natashalieromanov](https://archiveofourown.org/users/natashalieromanov/gifts).



> stuff u might like to know: carbonell is tony's mom's maiden name :)

On a fall Friday, Steve falls in love with an adorable stranger.

On Fridays, after his technical painting course, Steve volunteers at an orphanage, changing diapers and playing boardgames with older kids, drawing with the kids. It’s a great way to spend the beginning of his weekend, and he thinks his Ma would love it, so he goes for the both of them.

It’s a little later when he comes in on this Friday, and it’s raining like god’s angry, and Steve knows there’s a new baby in the nursery (one of his friends had mentioned) so he figured one might be crying when he came in.

He wouldn’t mind hushing the little guy- it’s scary to hear the thunder the first time around, and Steve’s heart already hurts thinking about the little guy crying will wthout anyone to hold him through his first thunderstorm.

Turns out, he doesn’t have to. When Steve walks in, he sees, well.

He sees a young man in a button up shirt that costs more than his rent, with curly brown hair and brown eyes holding a baby, shushing him like he was meant for it. The man’s obviously young, but he’s a natural- the baby’s just a little thing, only a few weeks old and slumbering happily in his arms, peaceful as though the world is quiet.

His sleeves are rolled up and he’s shushing the baby even though he’s asleep, serene and warm and Steve- wow, that’s a swoon, isn’t it? That’s embarrassing.

The man’s- well, he’s kind of _gorgeous,_ amber eyes and strong arms, wearing a rumpled white shirt and curls haphazard like he’d let the other little ones play with it. What a warm man, he must be, to play with kids when he’s dressed head to to in Armani.

Steve can’t even help the swing of his stomach, the _swoon_.

He’s bright red standing and staring at another volunteer holding a baby like some kind of creep, holy shit.

“Oh hey, didn’t see you!” Cute Guy whisper should, enough to be heard but not enough to wake the baby, gingerly laying him down in his crib, a hand pressed lightly to the infants face, fondness all over his face.

Cute guy wipes his hands on his pants, then reaches a hand out to shake.

“Sorry, I just had formula on me. Little asshole decided to spit up on me earlier. Although I don’t know if that makes it worse-“

Steve shoots him a smile, and tries to be charming, because this guy is…something.

“I’m Steve,” he says, too quick, cute guy hasn’t said his yet, “You another volunteer?”

Smooth. Idiot.

“Tony. And uh, kind of. I help out a bit.”

Tony is a great name. Suits him, and he’s smiling at Steve, that’s lovely, he should keep that going, it’s so pretty-

He’s staring.

“That’s cool.” He’s not that great at this, “Did you hear about the name change?”

The orphanage was changing, lately. An anonymous donor had donated a ridiculous sum, and now the place was being renamed, among other things. Everything was just _better_ around there. There were new beds, more space, better food- name it and they had it.

Tony smiled, just _beamed_ at him, and god that’s pretty.

“Yeah. The Carbonell Home for Children.”

“I bet it comes from that donor. Isn’t that crazy? I’ve been volunteering here for years, and now these kids actually have the stuff they deserve. I’d love to meet the guy.”

Tony seems to get shy after that, and Steve doesn’t get why, but if theres’ anything he can do its make people feel comfortable. He knows what it’s like to feel out of it when talking to people.

“So, what’s the little guys name?”

Tony lights up at that, and pulls Steve over to the crib to look at him (he’s touchy, his hands are calloused, nothing like what that Armani suit would suggest) and looks down at the little boy.

He’s just so small, sleeping and sweet and so _young._ It’s so early in life to be in a place like this. He’s got a chance.

“His name’s Peter,” Tony says, whispering, focused on him now, “He’s just a month old. He’s doing so well. He has a heart condition, so the first couple of weeks were pretty scary, but he saw us through, didn’t you, honey?”

He’s talking to Peter there at the end, hands brushing his little forehead, so much affection. It’s almost like they’re family.

“He seems like a great kid.” Steve says, and it’s a lame thing to say, but Tony smiles like it’s brilliant.

“It’s nice to meet you, Steve.”

“You too.”

* * *

 

Steve volunteers every Friday and Saturday, and every Friday and Saturday, he sees Tony.

 

It’s the best part of his week.

 

Tony is great with the kids, meets one of the toddlers named Harley and just takes to him like they’re kin. He’s just- so _invested_ in this place, comes in every time and says he’s sorry he couldn’t be there earlier and picks Peter up like a father.

He learns a lot about Tony through these events. When he’s helping making school lunches, Tony tells him how he just graduated from MIT a bit ago, then came back for a family emergency and fell into helping there.

He also learns that without fail, Tony cuts the crusts off for Harley _specifically,_ and he loves coding and inventing. He made a helper bot when he was 10, and tells stories about him.

“His name is Dum-E and he’s meant to be a learning bot and he doesn’t learn and I hate him.” But he’s smiling when he says it, and Steve warms at the thought of Tony messing with a robot like it’s a puppy. It’s how he talks about him most of the time.

Tony listens to Steve, too, when Peter is down for a nap and they can whisper conversations. He tells Tony that he used to be a scrawny kid, a lot of allergies, that he wanted to go into the military but at the time he couldn’t, and now that he had his health it was too late. His ma is sick, and they can’t afford treatment and tuition, but she won’t let him drop out and work.

“I just- there’s nothing I can do. The bills keep piling up, she won’t let me drop out- I just wish there was something I could do.”

It’s crazy how easy it is to tell Tony all this, when he’s holding Peter and listening with wide brown eyes, sympathy but not pity in them, and after Steve is done rambling his life story to a man he’s known just for weeks. It feels like he’s known Tony _forever,_ like he’s just made to be around Steve.

Trust comes easy.

“I’m so sorry, Steve.”Tony says, warm and sincere.

“There’s nothing you can do. “

Tony stays silent for a second, and Peter stirs, and the conversation ends.

* * *

Steve gets Tony’s number, and after that, they never stop talking. It’s like he takes Tony wherever he goes, now. Tony texts him when he’s in his workshop, or how much grease is in the smoothie his robot had made him.

Today, Steve’s taking his Ma to the hospital for another round of chemo- and it’s silly, but the photo of Dum-E trying to help his master and also almost killing him- well. He’s very lucky to have that right now.

_S: he’s doing his best! Leave him be._

_T: you’re an enabler, rogers. He almost killed me!_

He’s lucky.

When he enters the hospital, Peggy, the nurse who’s helped them since the beginning- she’s _beaming._

“Hey Peg,” he says, trying to smile back, because his Ma is here and she taught him to be polite.”

“You’re not going to believe this,” She says, her voice delicate and exhilarated, “Someone left this for you.”

There’s an envelope on the counter, and it’s printed neatly on it _Carbonell INC._

_For the treatment and comfort of Mrs. Sarah Rogers._

Inside, is a check, for more than Steve could imagine ever seeing.

“What is it, dear?” His Ma asks, and he doesn’t know how to speak over the relay in his chest, and he wants to _cry,_ he doesn’t know how this happened-

“We’re okay, Ma. We’re gonna be fine.”

* * *

After volunteering, Steve asks Tony if he’d like to eat something over at his place, and Tony says yes.

(It’s not a date. Tony wouldn’t look at him like that.)

“It was just in an envelope. A fucking envelope saved my goddamn mother and I can’t even thank the guy. I mean, do you even know who this Carbonell guy is?”

“Watch your language,” Tony laughs, slurping instant spaghetti Steve had made,” That’s great my myour mother you’re talking about.”

“I’m talking about the guy that saved my _fucking_ life, Tony,” he laughed back, sipping his beer, “How do you think he even knew?”

“The volunteers know your situation, right? Maybe one of them told the guy.”

“No, I only told you. And if you knew a billionaire, you might wear shirts without grease stains once in a while.”

“I resent that, I am the hottest thing you have _ever_ seen, Steve-o.”

Well. That’s got a loaded response.

“You deserve this, though, Steve.”

What?

“You work so hard, and for gods sake you cuddle babies every weekend, pack lunches and take care of your mother and you’re my _friend,_ I think you deserve this more than an anyone.”

Tony says this like it’s nothing, like it’s not extremely kind, like he’s not everything Steve wants. His heart’s in his throat.

Steve was a frail, sick kid. No one would look twice at him, especially no one he _wanted-_ and Tony is kind and brilliant and sweet and he takes care of these kids, and honestly, takes care of Steve.

“You do that stuff too,” Steve hears himself say, even though there is a roar of _I want him, I want him, I want him to want me_ in his ear, “You take care of kids and you cuddle Peter and you listen to me and you were the one who picked up the phone when I thought I was going to cry at the hospital. You’re my friend, Tony.”

Tony blinks.

“That’s nothing. They needed help and I could do it. You needed me. It was nothing.”

And it’s not- it’s not _nothing_ , not when Steve spent nights where the only thing keeping him afloat was weird science puns from Tony and knowing he was listening. That he was there.

“It’s not nothing, Tony. It’s not.”

Tony pauses, then eats a bit of spaghetti, paying attention to the TV.

Steve thinks he’s won this round.

* * *

Tony’s favorite colors are red and gold, and he buys Peter a little knitted cap with them on it. He’s growing, and before Steve knows it, he’s had a Peter and a Tony is his life for 6 months.

And maybe he had a crush on Tony, but he was a _friend_ , and he’d like to think he covered it pretty well- it’s _normal_ to be a bit entranced by him. He’s funny and beautiful and kind, anyone can see it.

“Peter said Dada to me,” Tony says, eating Chinese food that he’d brought over, sitting on Steve and Bucky’s ratty couch, “to _me._ ”

“That’s amazing,” Steve says, because it is.

“I can’t- he needs- I can’t be his father.”

“You basically are, at this point.”

“I love him,” Tony says earnestly, “I love him. He’s small and he’s helpless and I have no reason to want to but every time I go inI want to take him back with me.”

“I know we’re young, and I don’t know much about where you live or how much being an inventor makes you know, but I think you’d make a wonderful father, Tony.”

“I can’t,” Tony says, and it hurts, the sadness in his voice, “My dad- I don’t know the first thing about being a father.”

For a second, Steve doesn’t know what to say.

He thinks of Tony, kind and lovely, who makes robot toys for the older kids by _hand,_ who met his Ma and charmed her right off of meeting. She’d looked Steve in the eye and told him that he needed to sweep him up before someone else did.

“Tony, I don’t know who your father is or what kind of man he is. All I know is that if you had Peter you’d do nothing but love him. Honestly, knowing you, I’m not sure you know how to do anything else.”

Tony doesn’t really take kindness well from what he knows, so Steve expects him to close up. It’s not going to stop him from saying it, though because it’s true and frankly he’s so in love he doesn’t think he can help it.

This time, Tony doesn’t close up. He leans in and _hugs_ Steve, a little awkward at the angle but _fervent,_ and Tony is so wonderful to hold, smells like cologne and pine and floral shampoo and Steve hugs back, because this is all he needs, _forever._

If Tony wanted him, then maybe-

He could see everything they could be. Tony adopting Peter. Steve and Tony and Peter having a _home,_ evenings together with cocoa and tea and kissing at sunsets and he could _have_ him, could be loved by Tony and would love him so hard back.

But he doesn’t know, honestly, if Tony wants him. So he settles for a hug and Chinese food, and getting a taste of the most wonderful man he’s ever met.

* * *

Two weeks later, Tony’s used his spare key to Steve’s place, sitting on his shitty couch when Steve comes home from school.

Steve’s just brought the paper in- some tech conglomerate or something, Stark tech- he stops reading or paying any attention when he sees _his_ Tony sat on his couch about to cry.

He’s sat there with papers he can’t read from there, and Tony- he’s got tears in his eyes, his breath a little shallow, and something has happened.

“Tony?” Steve says, not surprised he’s there, more worried about the man who’s in front of him.

“I uh, listened to you. I talked to Natasha, the head of the facility-“

“I know her, yeah,”

Tony stands, wipes his eyes and clears his throat, stepping closer to Steve.

“I applied for adoption. Of Peter. I’ve been around for months, met background check worked out- I’m- I’m a father, now, Steve.”

Tony looks up from the papers and _smiles,_ at him, warm and loving, and he’s only 22, Tony is only 22 and brilliant and kind and perfect and he’s going to give Peter a wonderful life full of joy and love, and Steve is so in love it hurts.

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Steve. I can’t do anything, without you these days. I owe you everything in my life right now. Everything good is because of you.”

It aches and it aches and it aches, and he loses it, when Tony, the best man he knows is standing in front of him, thanking him for being what he needs. That’s everything he wants to be.

Maybe it’s the adrenaline. Or the pride. Or the fact that he’s been in love with Tony since he called a baby an asshole for spitting up on him.

He kisses him.

Tony smells like fancy cologne and like metal, so warm in his arms and melts to his touch like he was made for it- engineer’s fingers light, one palm on Steve’s cheek and the other around his neck, his own arm’s around Tony’s middle-

It’s the best kiss he’s ever had, and it’s like a dam has broken- what he’s wanted since the moment he met Tony is now in his arms, pliant and loving and _his._ He could have this.

Kissing Tony is like an eclipse.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you forever,” is what comes out of his mouth when he pulls away, sees Tony’s eyes blazing with affection and _heat,_ and all he can think is _yes, look at me that way forever._

“The first time we met I shook your hand after a baby threw up formula on me and I’d told you so,” Tony says, and Steve laughs at him, tucking his face in the crook of his neck, because he will never get it.

Tony will never understand he’s been perfect since the moment he met him.

“I’m in love with you, Tony, even if you build robots and shake my hand with baby formula and never say your last name ever like you’re in the fucking secret service.”

“Watch your mouth,” Tony says, so close they brush together every time he speaks, “I’m in love with you too.” Tony says, shyly.

He doesn’t know what to say to that. Doesn’t know if there is anything to say,

He goes to kiss him again, because really, he can’t stop doing that. He just can’t. It’s all he wants to do now. There’s a knock on the door, and he puts his head down, laughing.

“My neighbor probably saw someone unfamiliar come over and wants to check.”

“Nosy.” Tony’s nose crinkle is so cute Steve might melt.

He kisses him again just for a second before opening the door.

(It was Bucky. He knew who Tony was and getting gossip. Steve told him he had to get back to kissing Tony and then shut the door.)

When he comes back, though, Tony’s holding the paper like it’s punched him in the gut, hurt and pain on his face like something he’d never seen.

“This is why you kissed me?”

It doesn’t make sense. Tony looks like he’s about to cry, and Steve wants to hold him but when he moves closer he won’t let him, shoves the paper in his face.

Taking a closer look at the paper, he sees that-

Tony is in the paper. With Stark industries. Carbonell Inc is Stark Industries. Tony is _Tony Stark._

The expensive clothes, the orphanage, his ma- It was _Tony._

And now, lovely, sweet, kind Tony, the man who he loves, the man who _saved his mother,_ the man he needed like oxygen was backing away from him like a caged animal.

_This is why you kissed me?_

“No, Tony, I swear to you-“

“Don’t touch me-“

“I didn’t know, I didn’t even read the article, I swear, I kissed you because I love you, because I know you-“

“I don’t know what I was thinking coming here, that you were my friend without- without _a motive,_ have you known this whole time? _“_

“Tony, I never knew, I wouldn’t lie to you about this,” and it feels like Tony is slipping away from him like sand in his hands, because Tony’s backing away and taking his papers with him.

_No, no, no, I just got to hold him, not yet_

“Tony, just listen to me, please, I’m not ready to lose you-“

“Lose my number, okay, Rogers? It was fun pretending you gave a shit about me but it’s done now.”

Tony walks out of the apartment and doesn’t give a chance to follow him, and takes Steve’s heart with him.

It takes a moment to understand it. Tony saved all those kids, saved his _Ma._ Tony was the best thing that ever happened to him, the best thing that happened to so many people.

Steve Rogers was in love with Tony Stark.

And he lost him. Without ever even having him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> yell at me over the angst @irndad on tumblr.


End file.
